


Malyutka

by helloshatteredlove



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Violence, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloshatteredlove/pseuds/helloshatteredlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wynona McFarland is a special girl. She's known it since she was little, but she's been pushing her abilities away, ever since she began living on the streets seven years ago. When Tony Stark and the Avengers catch sight of her, will she be able to ignore her power for any longer?And with Loki's arrival, a friend's meddling, and Death's return, will Wynona continue to hide?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescue

Living on the streets isn't fun, no matter what anyone says differently. Surrounded by drugs, alcohol, hookers, and other trash. Nicking wallets, stealing food, it's a hard way to live. Many that get thrown onto the streets have no clue about survival. They usually end up in shelters.

I know, though. I know how to survive. My parents died when I was ten years old, seven years ago. I had no overly welcoming relatives, and I didn't want to live in a foster home, so I became one of the street crowds. Unwillingly, of course, but nonetheless.

Now, with the Avengers flying around saving the day, the streets of Manhattan were filled with less crime. Being Manhattan, it will never be fully free, but it's a nice thought.

I myself find it interesting. The Avengers, a group of assassins, spies, super soldiers, demigods, and scientists. Captain America, a 1940's WWII super soldier unfrozen from the ice, is the leader, the first Avenger. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. He is the great Iron Man. Black Widow, a world-renowned spy. Hawkeye, S.H.E.I.L.D assassin. Bruce Banner, a famous scientist with an awesome ability to go green and angry. Last, but certainly not least, Thor Odinson, Asgardian god of thunder. He also wields a very large and very powerful hammer that only he himself can pick up.

I've only seen them on T.V., not in person. I saw not in Manhattan when Loki and his army attempted takeover.

Right now, I sat in a diner, watching Tony Stark talk about the construction of the new Stark Tower. I wasn't really paying attention, mostly just staring out of boredom. A warm body slid next to mine, and I jumped slightly. I turned, and then grinned. It was one of the only people I trusted, and for good reason.

"Hello, Jim."

"Hey, Wy!"

I cringed. Jim insisted on calling me by my horrid nickname. 

"Jim, my name is Wynona, not Wy." I gritted my teeth. "If you continue to refer to me by that, I will return to calling you Jimbo." 

Now it was his turn to gasp indignantly. He glared. "You wouldn't."

I stared back levelly. "I would."

He stuck his tongue out at my, and we returned to watching Tony Stark. Jim leaned his head on my shoulder, sighing. "He's sooo hot." 

I laughed. "Not really. I don't go for cocky geniuses. Especially ones with goatees. Not big on facial hair" I teased. Yes, Jim is gay. If that bothers you, fuck off. And yes, he has a major crush on all male members of the Avengers, aside from Dr. Banner.

"Oh yeah, that's right. You go for the sweet and bashful type." Jim shot back. "Shut up. Just because I like my guys sweet and nice doesn't mean they can't have a wild side." I bumped him with my shoulder.

Jim laughed before standing. Come on, time to go. Before the owner runs out of the place." I stood, using Jim for balance. We walked to the door in silence. He turned to me, grinning.

"If you won't let me call you Wy, I'm going to call you Nona!"

My eyes widened. "Never!" Jim chuckled, before falling silent. His brown eyes grew sad. I leaned against the door, waiting for Jim to speak. "You do know, you can stay with me, us, at any time, right?"

I nodded, a sad smile upon my lips. "I know. But no thanks. I can take care of myself."

Jim's eyes shot downward. "I know. Believe me, I know. But, just know, you're welcome at any time." He offered once more. 

"Thank you. For that, I am grateful." I replied, truly grateful for Jim's offer.

Jim doesn't live on the streets, but he is like me; a thief. But Jim does something I would never lower myself to. He sells himself, his body, at times. When he and his 'family', can't afford certain necessities. Jim is like me, his parents died in the same fire that claimed my own. So his family isn't anyone actually related to him. It's a rag-tag group of kids and teenagers taken in off the streets that banded together for the sake of surviving.

Kenna, for instance. 15 year old daughter of 2 dead Marines that died in action. Her mother had been disowned by her parents long before Kenna was born, and her father's parents had died in a car crash the year before her parents died, so Kenna had none to depend on. Kenna and Jim are just two of a large group of people that depend on each other. Normally, I would accept Jim's offer, had it been any other night, but tonight it felt odd to accept.

The door opened from behind me, causing me to fall backwards, having put my full weight on the door, into a pair of strong arms. I looked up, and gasped. Beautiful, large, baby blue eyes peered down into my own jade green orbs.

"Miss? Are you ok?"

I started, the pretty eyes catching me off guard. With help from the hot blonde male holding me, I regained my balance. "Uh, thanks. And yeah, I'm ok." 

The male smiled at me, before entering the diner.

Jim and I looked at each other, giggling. Jim then set out, headed towards downtown. I walked off in the opposite direction, just set on finding somewhere to go.

-just a little time break-

I soon got lost in my thoughts, completely unaware of my surroundings. I looked up; I had ended up in the dark side of town. I immediately knew I had to get out of there, and fast. I turned, to leave the way I came.

But apparently not fast enough. Within seconds I was surrounded by a group of disgusting, putrid, ugly men. Six in all, I thought.

"Lookie here boys. A pretty little lady, just ripe for plucking." One of them spat, grinning. Another stepped closer, leering at me. "I wan' 'a f'rst, cap." One drooled through a mostly toothless mouth. I grimaced. I wasn't scared, I could easily get out of the situation, but these men were just plain UGLY.

I sent a glare at each filthy pig, who then began dropping like flies. I stared, wide-eyed, at the 'cap' of the band of men. He stared back fearfully. I then sneered at him, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

I then heard footsteps behind me, taking my mind off the strange incident.

"Are you okay?" A voice cried out.

I squinted into the darkness, trying to focus on a body. I stood in the light of one of the only working streetlights, making that much worse. "Who are you?" I questioned, still quite wary.

"Just some friendly neighborhood crime stoppers." The sound of a new voice mixed with the sounds of metallic feet hitting the pavement. A body appeared under the streetlight. …A red and gold body…?

The metal man must have noticed my confusion, and spoke once more. "You don't recognize me? How insulting. C'mon out Cap. Maybe she'll recognize you better." The garbled voice began to grate on my nerves, and I cringed at the word 'cap'. That was what one of the goons referred to their 'leader', as. Another body appeared, but this one was more startling than the other. This man was all Star Spangled Banner'ed up!

And then it hit me. Like a ton of rocks. In front of me stood two of the world's greatest heroes, Captain America and Iron Man! Obviously my observation skills had dimmed slightly.

"Oh now she recognizes us." Iron Man scoffs.

I felt woozy, so I held my hands against my head, hoping to calm the dizziness. I then fell forward, having lost my balance. For the second time that night, I was enveloped in a pair of strong arms.

"Did you eat tonight?" I shook my head weakly, which made my head worse. "When was the last time you ate?" I shrugged.

That itself took the rest of my energy, and I fainted.


	2. Who? What?

I groaned. I had a major headache, not something you want to wake up to.

"Miss, if you are awake, there is a pair of painkillers on the nightstand beside you, along with a glass of water. I believe they will help you with your headache." The voice was odd, computerized with a British accent, but it didn't aggravate my already frazzled nerves, for which I was thankful. I sat up, still slightly woozy. I looked to the right, spotting said nightstand. I reached over for the pills and water, causing my neck to twinge and my head to pulse slightly. I took a mouthful of water, and drank down a pill. I then repeated the action with the other pill.

"W-who are you?" My voice cracked, hoarse from disuse. "I am JARVIS, a computerized system created by Mr. Stark. I suppose you could refer to me as his butler, of sorts." Well, there's that. JARVIS' answer also answered another question of mine: where was I? Stark Tower, obviously. But, that left another puzzling question. What does Tony Stark want with me?

I looked up, gauging the room I was currently residing in. The walls were bare, covered in a light, sky-blue paint. From the door, the bed sat in the top left corner, a window a few feet past. On the wall opposite the bed, was another door, leading either to a closet or a bathroom. The bed I laid upon was also blue, but this was midnight blue. The nightstand was the only other piece of furniture in the room.

I looked down at myself, the comforter having slid down when I sat up. I wore a thin, light-green, spaghetti-top pajama shirt, and fluffy long green sweats.

"Mrs. Potts changed you last night. Your clothing was too dirty to sleep in." JARVIS explained. That made me feel slightly better. "So, JARVIs, do you have any clue as to why Tony Stark wants me, of all people, here?" I asked whilst climbing out of the large bed. "Unfortunately, no. I avoid attempting to read into Mr. Stark's actions and decisions." I sighed; of course not. "But Mr. Stark is walking down the hall way right now, mostly likely to check on your welfare, if you wish to ask him."

I squeaked, and jumped back into the bed. My clothing wasn't suitable to go strutting around in at the minute.

A knock rapped at the door, and I cleared my throat. "Come in." The door opened slowly to reveal the famous Tony Stark.

"Hello. How are you?" "Better. The painkillers were very effective. Thank you." Mr. Stark waved off my gratitude with his hand. "No thanks necessary. I knew you would most likely wake with a headache." Mr. Stark paused, and peered at me, as if trying to read my mind. "Why were you on the dark side? Were you trying to kill yourself?" I reared back, as if he had slapped me. "No! I hate my life, but I'm not that desperate. My friend and I had separated ways after leaving a diner, and I was just trying to find somewhere to stay. I ended up walking, not paying attention, into the wrong side of town. Then you and the Captain arrived." I explained in a rush, desperately, for some unknown reason, attempting to rid Mr. Stark of any bad impression of me.

Tony nodded. If he noticed my desperation, he didn't speak of it. He then gestured to me. "As you can tell, Pepper changed your clothes last night. They have been washed, and Pepper will return them shortly. Then you are welcome to leave, or stay."

Tony turned to leave. "Though, I do hope you stay." He said, before leaving, and shutting the door behind him.

I stared at the door. "Mr. Stark is baffling." I said. "Yes he is." JARVIS agreed. A few minutes later, Mrs. Potts appeared. She was blonde, quite tall, and Tony's assistant. She handed me my clothes, made some small talk, then left, leaving me to my business. I took off the sleep wear, and folded them neatly on my bed. I then slid on my clothes, relishing the comfort they gave me. The t-shirt I wore was an old, Faded Glory Jim bought me. My jeans were stonewashed, stolen from Goodwill.

Oddly though, my shoes were missing. I sighed. If I knew anything about the elusive Mr. Stark, it was that if he wanted something, he got it. No matter what. And if he wanted me to stay at Stark Tower, he would lose no sleep over stealing my shoes and hiding my shoes.

"I bet Mr. Stark and Sherlock Holmes would get along famously. The stealing of shoes, for goodness sake!" I muttered. "JARVIS, do you have any clue where my shoes might be?" "No, unfortunately."

The image in my head of JARVIs was an elderly British gentleman, belonging more in the eighteenth-century than the twenty-first.

"Perhaps you should go ask him?" JARVIS offered. I shook my head; I wasn't giving Mr. Stark the satisfaction. "No. I'm just going to search for them." I decided before exiting the room.

The hall I entered was pure white. White walls, ceiling, floor, and doors! I thought Tony Stark was creative and colorful, not hospital-obsessed! Trying to ignore the strange absence of colors, I followed my intuition and headed down the hall to the right. Within ten minutes I was thoroughly lost. Not that I knew my way in the first place. "Uh, JARVIS, where am I?" I asked hesitantly. "You started on the 12th floor, now you are on the 14th, close to one of Mr. Stark's many labs and what is usually used by the Avengers for rest." JARVIs answered. Well, at least I was close to where Mr. Stark had run off to.

I opened my mouth, to ask JARVIS exactly how to get to Mr. Stark, but my stomach interrupted. I glared at it, mock-angry. "Continue forward, and then turn right. First door on the left is the kitchen. "I grinned. "JARVIS, you might just save my life." "Much obliged." The AI replied.

I followed JARVIS' directions, continuing forward, until I noticed the hall on the right. I then approached the door, uncaring of anybody who might be inside. I opened the door, only to be face to face with an arrow.

I let out a high-pitched squeal, something I will never admit to. Thinking on instinct, using the butt of my palm, I shoved the arrow up, away from my face, and then kicked the owner in the chest, swiftly knocking them away as well. Before the arrow-wielder could regain their composure, or anyone else could attack, I slammed the door shut, and took off down the hall, the way I came.

~breaker breaker, just a little breaker~

Twenty minutes later found me in a small cabinet on an unknown floor in the Tower. The adrenaline rush had left me shaken. Even after living on the streets for so long, I was not used to having weapons shoved in my face, or the need to retaliate when it does happen. The fact that it was Hawkeye I kicked in the chest didn't help matters. (Information courtesy of JARVIS)

My stomach, which had been oddly silent, now made a reappearance. I glared at it, mad that it had gotten me into this mess.

"Mr. Stark is searching for you. Should I inform him of your whereabouts?" The AI's voice echoed through the cabinet. I shrugged. The events had left me exhausted, and I couldn't bring myself to care. At that moment, my give-a-damn was busted. Within five minutes, a knock rapped at my cabinet door. "It's open," I said.

The door was gently pulled open, light flooding the darkness of my hidey-hole. Mr. Stark's chocolate eyes peered into my own as he kneeled down to my level. They held mainly amusement, but there was a hint of concern as well. "So, I heard you met Bird-brain?" I giggled slightly, at the nickname, before nodding. "Yeah...I don't think he was too happy, huh? Of course, you don't just point an arrow in someone's face and expect repercussions."

Mr. Stark's eyes darkened slightly. "I wasn't aware it was aimed at your face." I inched away from the angering man a fraction. He must have realized my discomfort, because he smirked. "But I bet that swift kick in the chest was revenge enough." The engineer stood, dusted himself off, and extended his hand towards me. I grinned, and grabbed the offered hand, using it as leverage to stand.

"C'mon, let's eat. I'm sure you're starving, and I'm going to introduce you to the rest of the team. Properly." Mr. Stark said as I stood. We then exited what I realized was an empty, unused bathroom. We then approached what seemed to be elevator doors down the hall. I glared at the ceiling, using it as a focal point to glare at JARVIS.

"Might I ask why you're glaring at my ceiling as if you want it to burst into flames?" Mr. Stark eyed me warily. "Because your stupid AI neglected to inform there was an elevator." I huffed. "I am not stupid. And you did not ask." I swear, if JARVIS had a body, he'd be sticking his freakin' tongue out! "Sassy," I muttered. "I heard that." JARVIS replied. "You were supposed to." I answered, in a sweet, sickly, sing-song voice. Loud laughter pulled me from my argument with the AI. I stared at Mr. Stark, as if he had gone 'round the bend.

"Y-you're arguing with JARVIS! It-it's funny!" Mr. Stark managed to say whilst laughing. I blushed slightly. "What? Have you never argued with JARVIS?" I challenged. "Well, yes, but I created him! I'm allowed!" Mr. Stark replied.

Ignoring the man, I pushed the button for the elevator. I stepped inside, but before Mr. Stark could follow, I said,"JARVIS, could you do me a favor?" "Yes?" The AI replied.

I looked Mr. Stark in the eye. "Close the doors." He did so, immediately. I only had a few seconds to enjoy the shock on Mr. Stark's face before the doors closed. I quickly punched the button for the 14th floor, and when I felt it move, I laughed. Hard. Harder than I have in a long time. "JARVIS thanks a lot." "My pleasure." Was it my imagination, or did JARVIS sound slightly smug? I shrugged, brushing it off. According to JARVIS, I had managed to make my way down to the 9th floor, five floors below where I kicked Hawkeye in the chest. I then realized what I had gotten myself into. Going up to where the rest off the team was, without Mr. Stark? What was I thinking?! I felt so stupid. I just kicked a very dangerous man in the chest, and was headed to meet him. Alone. Because I was freakin' childish, and had wanted revenge on Mr. Stark.

I went to head butt the doors, only to realize they were open, and I was on the 14th floor. "Uh, JARVIS? Not sure I want to do this anymore…" I said. "None of the Avengers will harm you. Mr. Rogers will make sure of it." JARVIS replied. I hesitantly exited the elevator. "Just in case, where is Mr. Stark?" "Headed up the stairs now. He is currently on the 12th floor." Wow. Two floors below. Either he was a really slow walker, or I was really fast.

I was far too impatient (hungry) to wait, so I walked to the kitchen, without waiting for Mr. Stark.

I opened the door, to a very odd sight.


	3. Chapter 3

I stood in the doorway, frozen with shock. Before me happened to be the strangest scene I had ever walked in upon.

Upon the table lay a man, pinned to said table by a woman with flaming red hair. A few seconds of blank staring made me realize that the people before me were Black Widow and Hawkeye. I was stunned, still very fearful, but I giggled anyways. The scene was far too amusing for this anxiety-filled day.

Suddenly three different gazes rested upon me. Two dark brown, one bright, baby blue eyes. Ignoring the stares from Black Widow and Hawkeye, I stepped towards the oh-so familiar blonde man with the beautiful baby blues.

An involuntary gasp escaped me with realization.

I took another step forward. "You're the man from the diner last night. You kept me from falling face-first into the concrete."

The blonde seemed slightly confused, before recognition dawned on him.

"No lady should ever meet the concrete face-to-rock, especially the Manhattan concrete."

I mock-curtsied, but I was too busy running that voice through my mind to really pay attention. I stared at the blonde, attempting to figure out what was nagging my mind. The large, muscular build, the sweet way he spoke, as if he was from another time. Those starling baby blue eyes I couldn't seem to look away from…the short cropped hairstyle of someone from the military…the neat, plaid, button-up…Something was on the tip of my tongue, but I had absolutely no clue as to what it could be.

And it hit. Again. Seriously, what was up with my observation skills lately? They had obviously gone down the toilet recently. Why? I didn't know. The only thing I knew was that the man before me had saved my life, not just once, but twice.

The man before me was the ever-patriotic Captain America.

"Wait, if you're Captain America, and you two are Black Widow and Hawkeye, and Mr. Stark is Iron Man, then where is Dr. Banner and Thor?" I asked, puzzled.

"Thor is in Asgard, attending one of Loki's many trials. Dr. Banner is upstairs, in his lab." Black Widow explained, climbing off both the table and Hawkeye.

Hawkeye then jumped off the table, rubbing at his throat where Black Widow had held the knife. He took a step forward; I took one back. He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Don't worry; no weapons this time. I think kick to the chest is enough, don't you?" He asked.

I eyed him warily, untrusting.

"How about trading names, hmm? I'm Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton." The archer said, backing up a few steps.

I looked around, not truly wishing to speak. I honestly just wanted some food, to find my shoes, then leave. Simple, right? I answered anyways, if only to be polite.

"Wynona McFarland." I was proud of myself, that my voice did not break.

Clint grinned, but Black Widow cut him off before he could speak.

"Natasha Romanoff."

I then turned my attention to the Captain. He smiled in return.

"Steve Rogers, ma'am."

I grinned, but before I could speak, Mr. Stark came running into the kitchen, Dr. Banner walking slowly behind him. The doctor's eyes widened slightly when they landed upon me, but he did not speak. I sent him a small wave.

Mr. Stark's eyes were wide as well. "Did we miss it? Did she kick your butt again? Or, should I say, on, your butt?" He demanded.

"You're crazy," I muttered, staring at the overly energetic engineer.

"Crazy doesn't begin to cover it..." Steve trailed off, blatantly staring at Mr. Stark. The genius must have taken offense to that remark, because he huffed and stormed away.

To the other side of Dr. Banner.

'"No, she didn't. We simply introduced ourselves." Clint answered.

"Well, in that case, I am Bruce Banner. Just call me Bruce though." Dr. Banner spoke up. I nodded.

"Of course, you already know who I am. Everyone knows who I am." Tony stated, ever the egotistical man I knew from T.V.

"An egotistical maniac?" Clint countered.

I couldn't help it. I giggled.

Mr. Stark rounded on me. "What are you laughing at?" He demanded, looking more like a child than the adult he was.

I shrugged. "I was thinking the same thing." I answered. "And before you ask, I am Wynona McFarland." I told the genius, before he could pester me about it. And of course, it was at that moment my stomach decided to sound like a dying whale. I could feel the heat rise to my face as I blushed, and grinned sheepishly in response.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Mr. Rogers asked, suddenly serious.

"Well, I didn't eat yesterday, or the day before, and I don't really remember past that, so at least three days." I spoke my thoughts, not meaning to, aloud.

Everyone stared at me incredulously, but it was Miss. Romanoff who spoke first.

"You haven't eaten in three days, minimum at least?" She asked, seemingly calm but obviously hiding her anger under a mask.

I nodded, slightly confused at their reactions. Didn't they realize I lived on the streets? I would have thought it obvious…I didn't think anyone would willingly live like in this state…

"No, we weren't aware. How long have you been living on the streets?" Mr. stark asked sharply, and it was then I realized I had spoken aloud.

"About seven years," I replied.

` That sent everyone into a tizzy. I looked around, frozen in shock, as everyone began to speak at once, excluding Miss Romanoff. Bruce's gaze then rested on mine once again.

"how about we get you fed first, then worry about everything else?" he suggested. I smiled gratefully as his soft-spoken words reached the others, and they quieted.

"I'll make something for breakfast. Anything you want in particular?" Mr. Rogers volunteered.

My eyes widened. I didn't want to be a burden, and I certainly didn't want somebody cooking for me when I could easily do it myself.

"I can make something myself. Really, there's no need for you to." I protested. I really didn't want to be any trouble, and as soon as I found my shoes, I would be gone. I had no intention of staying, mainly because I'd feel more normal on the streets. I hadn't lived with another being in seven years, and I didn't need to suddenly be thrusted into a building, no matter how tall, with five others.

"Then you can help me cook. But I'm going to make sure you eat." Mr. Rogers all but commanded me.

I huffed and crossed my arms in defeat, knowing there was no way around it. I glared at the Captain. He merely smiled in return.

"Now, are you going to tell what you want to eat, or I am going to have to figure out myself?" Mr. Rogers asked, whilst tying on a large white apron.

I was tempted to tell him to figure it out himself, but my mouth was quicker than my brain. "Chocolate chip pancakes," I blurted, without thinking.

Mr. Rogers grinned. "Would you like to help?"

I shook my head. "Nah. Whenever I'd try to help my mom, it wouldn't turn out to well. Though usually it was only when making pancakes…" I trailed off, stuck in memory lane.

"Very well. Anyone else want some?" Mr. Rogers offered, everyone else voicing agreement.

Ignoring the others, I took a moment to laugh at the sight of the buff Captain in a white apron, before turning to Mr. Stark.

"Mr. Stark, where are my shoes?"

I wasn't expecting the genuine look of confusion his face.

"Your…shoes?" he asked. I nodded.

"I couldn't find my shoes this morning. They're ratty old Chuck Taylor Converse™, but they're all I have." I explained.

Mr. Stark still seemed confused, but Mr. Barton's eyes grew wide with recognition, before he raced out of the kitchen.

"What on earth is wrong with him?" Miss Romanoff asked.

Mr. Stark shrugged, before returning his attention to me. " , please." It wasn't a question; but a demand.

I sighed. I knew this was coming, but I had wished to prolong it just a tad bit long.

"How about we wait for Clint to return? I am sure she does not wish to tell the story twice." Bruce suggested, obviously sensing my distress. A smile rose to my lips. I was quickly beginning to like the kind doctor.

I was pulled from my thoughts as the scent of delicious pancakes filled my senses. My stomach let out another dying sound. I blushed, looking down instead of making eye contact with anyone else.

I only looked up when Mr. Roger set down a plate with two large chocolate chip pancakes on it in front of me. He also placed a bottle of heated maple syrup beside it. I looked up, to thank the Captain, but he instead waved off my gratitude.

"No thanks necessary ma'am. Simply eat. That will be enough for me."

I smiled softly, then began to drench my pancakes in syrup, practically drowning before I could take a bite of the enticing breakfast, Mr. Stark jumped up, and raced through out, through a door other than the one Mr. Barton had taken. I paused, slightly surprised.

"What is wrong with Clint and Tony today?" Dr. Banner asked, exasperated.

"What isn't wrong with Clint and Tony?" Mr. Rogers shot back.

"I heard that, Cap!" Mr. Stark yelled at the blonde solider, voice loud even though he was in the other room. I giggled, recalling the conversation I held with Tony and JARVIS earlier.

"What are you giggling about?" Mr. Stark snapped with no real heat as he re-entered the kitchen.

"Just our earlier conversation, Mr. Stark."

"Ah yes. And call me Tony. I feel like my father is hovering behind me when people call me that."Mr. S-Tony-, replied.

I nodded in response.

"Anyways, here." Tony set something down next to me. " I knew I had some somewhere."

I picked up the jar Mr. –Tony gave me, inspecting it.

"Peanut butter?" I asked, puzzled.

"Of course! Peanut butter and pancakes combined taste amazing!" Tony exclaimed.

I noticed Bruce snort in amusement and Mr. Rogers roll his eyes.

"Of course, it's kind of hard to spread the peanut butter with syrup already there…" Tony continued, unaware of the fact I was ignoring him in favor of the pancakes.

I took a bite, and squealed in pleasure. These were the best I've ever had!

"These are amazing, Mr. Rogers!" I exclaimed, after finishing my mouthful of course.

The solider grinned in response.

I went to take another bite, but was interrupted by Mr. Barton's reappearance.

The sniper was practically vibrating with excitement. In his hands were my Converse!

I jumped up, and grabbed my shoes. Without so much as a thank-you, I knelt down to slip them on. I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, into Tony's hazel eyes.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"No shoes on inside," He smirked.

I huffed, but relented. No need to protest. I slid back into my seat as Mr. Rogers began to hand out more pancakes.

-(Just a little time breaker…)-

Well into my third plate, (Tony's peanut butter idea actually turned out good) the air began to crackle with electricity. I paused, fork in mid-air.

"It's going to rain." I noted.

"No it's not. No rain today." Tony argued.

My brows furrowed. "Look, weather-men can be wrong, you know."

Mr. Rogers placed his hand on my shoulder, probably to calm me. "No, Tony's right. But think, what else can you think of that involves electricity? Or lightning?" He asked.

"Uh, light bulbs? Computers? Thunder and lightining? But if it's not going to-oh! Thor's arriving!" I exclaimed.

Mr. Rogers smiled. "Yes. You'll get to meet the missing Avenger."

I grinned, and Tony smirked. I stuck my tongue out at the engineer. His smirk only grew.

"Sir, Mr. Odinson has arrived," JARVIS began, "but there is a little problem."

"What?" Tony snapped.

"He brought Loki with."

Well that sent the team into a frenzy.

"What?! Why?!" Tony demanded.

"I do not know sir. Perhaps you should speak to Mr. Odinson about that." JARVIS replied. "They await you on the landing pad."

The Avengers jumped up and raced out, leaving me alone in confusion. I stood, deciding to take my leave, while they were busy. I slipped on my shoes and out the kitchen, towards the elevator.

But my plans were hindered by the 'OUT OF ORDER' sign. At first I didn't realize it, but with a second glance towards the bottom of the page was a little red and black DP. My eyes widened . I knew that signature, even if I hadn't seen it in years. I raced towards the stairs where I found another note.

This one said,

~Getting warmer, little raven~

DP

I raced down the stairs, to the next floor. It was there I found yet another note.

~Turn around, little raven~

DP

As soon as I finished the note, a deep voice sounded from behind me.

"Miss me, doll?"

I turned, to see a face(well, mask), I hadn't seen in forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Without stupid people we would have no one to laugh at. Take the time to thank a stupid person for their contribution today.~


	4. Chapter 4

"Wade!" I cried, before running into the outstretched arms of one of my oldest friends. We stood there for a while, simply hugging as I tried to not let a tear escape. Wade wouldn't like that.

Wade Wilson was someone from my past, from my childhood. An old friend who's parents worked with mine. (Or so I was told, I never met them.) Wade is 27, ten years older than me. He was caught in a bombing accident at sometime, which forced him to wear a full body suit to cover the pock marks and scars. I didn't mind them, but he did. He is also a deadly mercenary, known as Deadpool, which is why I saw him so scarcely. Seeing him here, at such a public place, was interesting.

That thought caused me to pull away from the male, to look at him through his mask.

"Wade, why are you here? During the day, no less?" I questioned, puzzled.

I could see the grin through the mask.

"Can't I come visit my precious raven?" He teased, using one of the many nicknames he has bestowed upon me.

"Not during the day. You're here for another reason. What is it?" I pestered.

Wade sighed. "You're just not going to leave me alone, are ya? I need to speak with the Captain and Stark. Wheels wants me to pass on a message to them, and I had one of my own. Ah—classified information, doll." Wade chuckled, and I huffed. His explanation only confused me further, leaving me with even more questions. 'Wheels', is Professor Charles Xavier, head of the school for gifted youngsters. Mutants for short. But what would the professor want with Steve and Tony?

But I knew Wade would tell me nothing more, so I dropped the subject, turning my thoughts elsewhere.

"Have you seen Spidey lately?" I questioned. Spiderman, or 'Spidey', was an old friend of ours too. Peter Parker. He recently became New York's own resident superhero. Peter occasionally visited me on the streets, when he was out of school, usually bringing food. He wouldn't stay long, just long enough for us to exchange one or two stories, before leaving. Peter's parents are dead too, but he lives with his aunt.

Wade grinned again. "Spidey's fine, last I saw. I was actually planning on dropping by after finishing up here. Want me to send him your love? He teased.

I grinned and nodded, all the while attempting to untangle myself from the merc.

Wade's next question caused me to freeze.

"Why are you trying to leave, little raven?"

I paused before speaking.

"Because I do not belong. Thor has returned, bringing Loki with, and the Avengers will have enough to deal with without me. They do not need another burden. Besides, I would feel uncomfortable here. A complete turnaround, going from living on my own on the streets to living with at least six adults?" I attempted to explain my insecurities.

"I really wish you'd stop degrading yourself so much. You are not a burden And Deadpool, what do you need?" A voice came from behind me.

I turned, only to see the entire Avengers team and one oddly tranquil, yet very curious, Loki, who was slightly hiding behind the large mass known as Thor. I flushed slightly. I hadn't wanted anyone to hear that but Wade.

Wade laughed, saving me from having to answer Tony.

As Wade passed along his message to Tony, I stared at Thor and Loki. The thunder god was exactly what the news made him to be: intimidating. But Loki was another story…something was off about him. His eyes were so…interesting, a vibrant wintergreen shade. So-that was it! In the news, Loki's eyes were bluer, like crystal or ice. But, why would his eyes change colors? Was it only when he used his magic? Or something else? That was interesting…

"Why do you stare so, young maiden?" Thor questioned, head cocked to the side in puzzlement.

I mentally shook myself before answering. Surely I was only seeing things.

"Just trying to get used to the fact that two demi-gods stand before me. It is quite a shock." I said.

Thor grinned in response. "Well, perhaps if you stay, I may tell you great tales of Asgard, many of which Loki and I was a part of." He announced.

"Ah yes, stories of the past. I believe you own us one of your own, Ms. McFarland." Mr. Rogers stated, staring at me.

I flushed from embarrassment, but nodded nonetheless. Since they had caught me in my attempt to escape, I owed them that much.

"Fine." I relented.

Wade, having finished his talk with Tony, came to stand in front of me.

"Wynona, trust me when I say this. You will find safety here. Don't throw this away because of pride." He whispered, before hugging me one last time.

I sighed. "Look, I'll try. If I don't like it, I'm leaving, got it?"

Wade nodded. "Deal."

We broke apart, Wade turning to leave. With one last goodbye, the merc was gone, racing down the hallway.

I turned to the group of rag-tag superheroes, and began to laugh. Mr. Barton was making a funny face, sticking his tongue out at me, and I couldn't help the giggles. Tony and Mr. Rogers looked at me as if I had gone crazy, but Miss Romanoff and Bruce smiled gently, knowing exactly what the marksman was up to. Thor seemed pleasantly confused, and Loki was still merely curious.

"I believe you owe us a story, so let's go upstairs," Tony announced.

I sighed once again, but followed anyways, to what I felt was my doom. Mr. Barton, Miss Romanoff and Mr. Rogers took the stairs, leaving me behind with Thor, Loki, Bruce, and Tony. I moved to follow the other three up the stairs, but Tony steered me towards the elevator. Rather forcefully, I might add.

I looked at the elevator, then at Thor, then back to the elevator.

"Tony reinforced all the elevators, and made them larger. The five of us will fit in there fine." Bruce stated, seemingly reading my mind once again.

I huffed. Now another attempt to get out of this predicament was shot down. I turned to glance at Tony, but was distracted by Loki's staring. Deciding to be blunt, I spoke.

"Why are your eyes different colors than before?"

Tony, whom had been ignoring me like a petulant child, peered at Loki.

"You know, she's right. During the invasion, your eyes were sort of a weird, crystallized blue. Like Selvig's when he was under control." Tony noted, approaching Loki to peer in his eyes. The trickster leaned back away from the genius.

"But Selvig was under Loki's control. So, was someone controlling Loki?" Bruce shot back, twisting his glasses in his hands.

Loki made a move to speak, but Tony, ever the abrasive one, cut him off, blatantly ignoring the trickster. Loki crossed his arms and I watched as his face fell into an expression that could only be described as a pout. Not that I would ever mention that to the demi-god.

We clambered onto the elevator, which had taken its sweet time to get here. Thor was somber and not quite so confused, though still silent. Loki was still pouting like a three-year old, and Bruce and Tony were tossing theories back and forth.

Ignoring the males, I surveyed the elevator. Bruce was right; it was larger than a standard elevator. I guess I hadn't been paying attention earlier, when I had been escaping Tony. I then looked at Loki. He didn't seem anything like the half-crazed maniac from the news.

Deciding to be nosy, I wormed my way over next to Loki.

"Earlier, you looked as if you wanted to say something. What was it?" I questioned.

Loki glanced down at me before answering. "I know why my eyes are different. I was going to tell them, but they did not give me a chance. Do they always assume such strange things? I assure you, I did not have sexual intercourse with either Selvig or Barton." Loki then proceeded to glare at Bruce and Tony, whose latest theory was exactly that.Bruce, at least, had the decency to look guilty, while Tony continued on as if Loki had not spoken. 

I shrugged in response to Loki's question. "Honestly? I don't know. I've only known these people for a matter of hours." "Why do you wish to leave? Do you not want to wish to know us better? To be friends?" The unusually quiet Thor spoke up. "Yeah…why do you want to leave so badly?" Tony demanded. I flushed with embarrassment, saved -fortunately or not, I couldn't tell- from answering by the stopping of the elevator and the opening of the doors. I stepped out first, followed by the others. I turned to Tony, who led us down the hall. I, hesitant, followed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hehm, I do not own Marvel, Avengers, or any of the sort. I own only my OC's, and they aren't making me any money.
> 
> Nikki: By the way... because Ash loves her fans so much, she's allowing you to enter an OC into this story. If this interests you in any way, please PM Ash for the details. There WILL be teenage mutants in this story.

"So…your parents died in a fire, you have no known relatives, and you began living on the streets at age ten?" Tony summarized, looking at me to make sure he got all the major details.

I nodded, staring at my hands rather than at the no-doubt curious looks sent my way.

"I know that there are other people living on the streets, but are there any like you, practically children?" Bruce asked.

I nodded. "Of course there are. There's always going to be kids living on the streets. Orphans. Abandoned kids. Most of them band together, greater chance of survival. Gangs and such, you know? But Jim, my friend, he and a bunch of other kids and teens live together in an actual house. They aren't a gang, thankfully. They all have jobs to pay for utilities and such. Ricky and Seth are the eldest two living there, at age 20." I explained.

Tony and Steve shared a look, but it was Clint that spoke.

"Ok, so how do you know Professor Xavier and Deadpool?"

"Well, my parents worked for Professor Xavier, and Deadpool was a student at the time. My parents worked in a lab that specialized in healing and regeneration, and Deadpool has enormous healing abilities, so he was involved in many tests and experiments. He and I became great friends," I began.

"I was home-schooled, so Professor Xavier allowed me to accompany my parents. Deadpool and I met one day, when he was having his blood drawn for testing. He was 16; I was 6. We kind of clicked, and became best friends in an instant. I began to follow him around the school and venture further than before, when it was just me and my parents. He and I were not in the lab, but rather in the school, when the fire broke out. Jim's parents were caught in the fire as well, although I wouldn't actually meet Jim for a few more years." I explained, glancing at each adult in turn.

Clint went to speak once more but Tony cut him off, earning a glare. "So, since you're going to be staying here for the undetermined future, how about we get you a room? After that, we can start the process of re-decoration and shopping and etc."

I glanced up sharply. "No, no I don't need anything other than a room. You don't need to go to that much trouble, sir."

Tony scoffed. "Nonsense. If you're going to live, you're getting the full treatment. New clothes, your own room, everything."

I glanced downward. I truly appreciated Tony's attempts at helping me fit in, but if these arrangements don't work out, I didn't want to owe him anything.

"Look, Wynona, even if this doesn't work out, we want you to be comfortable here, to fit in. We want you to at least a somewhat normal life. I'm doing this because you are a stranded young adult, and no one deserves that. You owe me nothing." Tony spoke, as if he could read my mind.

I flushed slightly in embarrassment at being read so easily. Without looking up, I began to speak. "Look, I really appreciate this, please don't think me ungrateful, but it's going to be rather difficult for me to get adjusted to this. I've lived, survived, on my own for so long, that I'm not sure if I can return to this too easily."

"And we're not going to force you into anything, Wynona. Anything you feel uncomfortable with, just tell us. Speak up. We can't help you if you bottle everything up. It's unhealthy, and believe me, I know." Tony replied, stepping into my line of sight.

I looked up, making eye contact with Tony, who had a small, hopeful smile on his face.

"Work it out with us?" He asked.

I nodded, and he grinned.

"Great! Now, let's go choose a room, and we can begin the decorating and such!" He announced, pumping a fist into the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for stopping there, but I've lost my muse for this chapter! Hopefully it comes back soon! Also, I really feel that everyone is OOC, and everything got a little messed up. Hopefully everything returns to normal soon.


End file.
